Sundered
by laptopscribe7
Summary: A chance encounter with one of Naraku's incarnations leaves a loved one dead and threatens to destroy all that the Inutachi has built. When hearts mend, can things ever hope to go back to normal. Probably eventually InuSan, other pairings as well.
1. Chapter I: Screams

_Author's Note: __As this is my first foray into fan fiction of any kind I believe a brief introduction is in order. I'm an English major so I'm used to writing, but this is the first creative piece I've written in a very long time. Still, I'll try to keep the writing interesting. Also I enjoy criticism of any kind; hell flame me, it all helps, just review._

_Alright, here's the first chapter. I suppose now is a good time to review the potential pairing. The idea was to make this an __InuSan__, although that is not set in stone__. It fits the __main plot idea__, although it's been done. __Many times.__ The only reason I'm doing this is to try to do it a bit more realistically than I've found. Anyway, if anyone has any suggestions for things they'd like to see in the plot__ or if__, post it in your review. I have the basic story hashed out, but the details aren't final.__ Review, review, review!_

_Disclaimer: If I owned __InuYasha__, would I be poor right now?_

* * *

**Sunder****ed**

**I**

**Screams**

It was finally morning. The sun hung low in the sky as InuYasha dropped from the branch where he had passed the night. He yawned, cracked his, and took a quick look at his hands to confirm that his claws had indeed returned. When he was satisfied that he was back to his _lovable_ demi-demonic self, he paused to ponder his luck and exhaled deeply. For once, nothing had come after them on one of his human nights.

InuYasha glanced over to the camp his companions had prepared the night before, occupying a small clearing a short walk from the path that traversed this forest. His friends were arrayed outward from the smoldering remains of a once potent fire. Kagome was curled up swollen ball, enveloped by her sleeping bag. Her yellow backpack and her bow sat in a heap a few feet past her head.

Miroku was leaning up against the base of a large tree. His staff lay at his feet. Periodically the monk's fingers would clench and then release. InuYasha noticed one of these instances and thought to himself, _'so the lecher's __hentai__ in his sleep too… typical'_. Sango lay several yards beyond him, clutching Kirara like a child's doll. Hiraikotsu was propped up by a stump about a foot away from them. Shippo was sprawled out on his back near Kirara, snoring.

InuYasha surveyed the scene and quickly decided that he didn't have the patience to wait for them to wake up. He strode into camp and approached his victim. He crouched next to Shippo and, with a devilish smirk, poked him twice in the ribs with one of his claws. The little kitsune cracked his eyes, very much in a daze. InuYasha bent over him until they were eye to eye and whispered.

"Boo."

Shippo screamed in terror and scrambled backwards attempting to stand up, tripped over Sango's legs, and fell down hard on his behind. Sango groaned groggily. _'One down,' _InuYasha thought. The fox quickly pooped to his feet.

"INUYASHA, YOU JERK!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, trying his best to sound intimidating, unknowingly accomplishing the half-demon's task for him. Inuyasha began to chuckle as the rest of the party was quickly jolted from their sleep. _'Well, that's done,' he thought._ Kagome sat up and stared, Miroku hopped upright, Sango reached for her katana, Shippo glared, his heart still racing from the scare, and InuYasha sat in the middle, eyes closed and laughing.

When the recently roused got their bearings, a mass rolling of the eyes ensued, followed by several sighs and a "SIT!" With that, the gloating hanyo crashed to the ground awkwardly, his head nearly in his own lap.

* * *

Kikyo walked along the river's edge, bearing her usual stoic, featureless expression. She held her hand out to the side, catching the incoming breeze. Looking out from where she trod, she caught sight of a curious village skirting the forest ahead. From what she could see, there were no less than fifteen huts, arranged around a central fire pit, but they all appeared vacant. Intrigued, she climbed the grassy incline flanking her and veered from the river's course as it bent slightly to the right.

The village appeared to be no different than the hundreds of others that dotted the rivers of the river. Kikyo had already passed by three of them that morning. It had small, roughly square wooden huts, one larger hut which likely belonged to a hetman or miko, and assorted tools and materials strewn about. It had all the signs of life, but there were no people. _'The villagers should be working by now. What is going on?' _she asked herself as she approached the village proper.

As passed by the first hut, an eerie silence overcame her. She shuddered momentarily, and walked over to the wooden structure and peered through the doorway. She staggered back when she saw what was inside; a man, a woman, likely his wife, and a young lay in a heap on the floor in a pool of blood. Upon closer inspection the man appeared to have been impaled, while the women's throats had been slit. Kikyo backed away and darted from house to house, only confirming what she feared.

"This entire village was slaughtered in the night," Kikyo stated. Before she could ask herself the obvious questions to follow, such as 'who would do this?' and 'why?' a soft but vicious sound reached her ears. '_Laughter__ Someone is actually laughing at this__…__ this__ massacre__? Who__… wait, someone… alive' _"Who are you!"she yelled with newfound conviction. Her forceful inquiry was met only with more of that insidious laughter.

"He… he… he… he… he…"

Kikyo looked left, then right, then cautiously upward, catching the eyes of the fiendish figure with her own. It appeared to be a child with flowing white hair partially obscuring his face. What looked to be a wakazashi hung at his side.

"He… he… he… he…" he continued, dangling his feet over the edge of the roof, seemingly quite amused with himself. He sat on the gable that hung over the hetman's porch hunched forward, arms balancing, face beaming.

"Who are you?!" Kikyo demanded. Had he been there the whole time? She was sure the village was abandoned, "Did you slay these villagers?" She jumped back, drew her bow, nocked an arrow, and took aim at the devil-child 10 feet above her.

"He… He…" he responded, still staring at her. Had he blinked even once?

"Answer me!" Kikyo roared. Her face was tense but still expressionless. When the only reply garnered was that same monotonic laughter, she discharged her weapon. Only mildly startled by her aggressive behavior, the child darted suddenly to his right, evading the miko's sacred arrow. With feline agility he slid down the slope of the roof, latched on to a jutting timber lintel, and swung to the ground, landing with a slide and a small cloud of dust. Kikyo redrew her bowstring and locked her piercing gaze on to the ashen-haired devil. He had to have massacred the village. The child flipped his hair out of his eyes, smirked, and spoke.

"I thought you'd come."

"Did you kill th–" Kikyo retorted.

He cut her off. "These people?" he finished, "Maybe. But that doesn't matter now."

"Who are you? Are you one of Naraku's incarnations?"

"I am called Hakudoshi. Please prepare for death."

* * *

"What the hell did you do that for?" InuYasha remonstrated, turning to Kagome, spitting out the odd clump of soil as he spoke.

"You were messing with Shippo again, weren't you?" responded a grumpy Kagome, still sitting in her sleeping bag.

"So what if I was? It saved me from having to wake all of you up individually."

"Humph…"

"Annoying, but effective nonetheless," Miroku commented, picking up his staff, "I take it you wanted an early start, InuYasha?"

"Of course," InuYasha retorted, hoisting himself up.

"There _are_ less dramatic ways to wake someone," noted the exterminator.

"Yeah," Shippo concurred, having finally regained his composure after having been so rudely jolted from sleep, "I thought we were under attack."

"Oh get off it already," barked the hanyo.

Kagome let out a small sight then rubbed her eyes. She wriggled free of her sleeping bag and looked up to InuYasha. "If you expect us to get back on the move quickly, go out and catch breakfast."

"What? Why me?"

"Because you were up first." A renewed force clung to Kagome's words and they hit InuYasha square in the necklace.

InuYasha grunted heavily before turning to leave. He had no desire to be sat twice in less than five minutes, but if he was going to let her order him around, at least he would make sure everybody was _well aware_ of his displeasure. As he trudged into the dense trees in the direction of a nearby river they had spotted the day before, Sango thought to herself sighing for what had to be the tenth time that morning, _'__Kami__, w__hy does eve__ry day have to start like this?'_

InuYasha found the river exactly where they had left it, a ten minute stroll from where they had made camp, at the bottom of a lush mound, pockmarked with purple and yellow wildflowers and patches of dry dead grass. He walked slowly but with long strides, as if he was storming out of a room very very slowly. A playful wind buffeted his hair into his face, impeding his view. InuYasha grunted and the wind died down, as if nature itself wouldn't dare to bother the half-demon when he was annoyed. He continued down the incline to the river's edge and into the soft current without hesitation, half-scanning the water for signs of breakfast, half-complaining to himself in regards to Kagome's orders. That latter began to win out as he allowed himself to drift downstream several hundred yards. He held his eyes closed for several minutes before a strange scent bid his nose twitch. His eyes jumped opened as he hopped out to the near bank, spraying icy cold water in all directions. Landing, he turned to face the familiar odor.

"Damn it," He muttered under his breath, "I don't need this now." _'__But I can't ignore it. Damn, Kagome's __gonna__ be pissed.'_ The sans-fish hanyo forsook his assignment completely and began to glide towards the source of the scent like a fly drawn to the light.

* * *

"Hakudoshi, what business could Naraku possibly have with these people?" Kikyo asked coarsely, her weapon still fixed intently on the child's chest. Her glare never relented, as if trying to impale him with her eyes. He stood in front of the large hetman's hut and began to advance towards her slowly. She matched his steps, keeping him at range. An unyielding smirk still blazoned on his young face as a banner declaring malicious intent, breaking only partially when he spoke.

"Are you saying that I'm just Naraku's puppet? Who's to say I didn't just decide show these nice folks a good time?" Hakudoshi said, bearing a short-lived full smile and giggling again, all the while steadily forcing Kikyo back through the village towards the river.

"Are you scared, Kikyo? That doesn't seem like you," the villain taunted. Kikyo did not respond but kept backpedalling. She was close to running out of village. The sun had floated higher in the sky and the once friendly breeze began to pick up steam, kicking dust up into the air near Kikyo's face. She blinked. _'There!' _Hakudoshi exclaimed internally like a child who had just won a game of hide-and-seek.

Kikyo knew blinking was a mistake. She had been sure not to let her gaze break from him since he had started his charge, advancing like one army on another, slow, steady, and intimidating. When she opened her eyes Hakudoshi was upon her, with a drawn sword and a madman's grin. Fear overcame her for the first time in as long as she could remember and she found herself unable maintain the pull on her bowstring. She closed her eyes, waiting for death. Somewhere above her, Dame Fortune smiled.

The attack she had braced for never came. Kikyo cracked her eyelids and peeked out from the slit. Hakudoshi stood in front of her, wide-eyed, lips upturned like they were trying to smile, cheeks contorted like they were trying to wince, and legs stumbling back a few steps before quickly regaining balance. His sword was still clutched firmly in his right hand, lying at his feet. Bloody strands of flesh now dangled from his shoulder, like a crimson wind chime. Kikyo shuddered at the site and bounded backwards onto the verdant slope approaching the river. All she could do was stare. Somehow, quaking in uncharacteristic fear, she had wantonly loosed a sacred arrow and freed her assailant from his arm. Luck, she thought, was too weak a term to describe it. This was a miracle. As he stood motionless before her she found the strength to compose herself and prepare for the coup de grace. She drew another arrow, took aim, and pulled the string to her ear, but found herself unable to fire.

"He… he… cough he… he…" She was stifled again by that sinister giggle. One-armed Hakudoshi spit up blood as he laughed. His expression had returned to normal. His blood leaked from the corners of his mouth as he whispered, "Lucky Shot."

InuYasha neared the epicenter of scent he was tracking. He was now bounding along the river's edge with a sense of urgency, his clothes flapping violently as he cut through the morning air. It was now about three hours from midday, almost a little over two hours from when he had set off to gather breakfast. He knew what the conversation would be back at camp.

"What's taking InuYasha?" Shippo would complain gruffly, "he was the one who wanted to leave so quickly and now we're ready before he is."

"You don't suppose something happened to him? Ran into a demon maybe?" Miroku would propose, only mildly concerned. InuYasha, he thought, should be able to handle most any demon to come his way.

"What do you think, Kagome?" Sango would ask, not quite sure what to expect.

"The jerk probably went off to see Kikyo," Kagome would say, displeasure only slightly masking her disappointment. She would be right, as she usually was. For some reason she could read him like a book. _'I'm never going to hear the end of this,'_ InuYasha thought, rolling his eyes. But he continued to press on. He didn't like this second scent he had picked up close to Kikyo's. It stunk heavily of Naraku.

InuYasha scanned the river valley from high above as he progressed and soon spotted a red and white blur standing near the edge of the river. The pungent odor of blood that surrounded her unnerved him greatly. He landed with a loud thud and ran up to what had to be a Kikyo about to strike.

She saw him coming from the corner of her eye, and turned her head to him, still twenty odd yards away, without a second thought. "InuYasha…" she muttered softly in a tone merely stating that she acknowledged his arrival. She looked at him for a few seconds, not seeing Hakudoshi part his severed hand from his wakazashi. InuYasha caught her stare and stopped dead in his tracks. Her eyed suddenly tore wide to match his. His body began to shake uncontrollably as he stared at her with a stained blade protruding out her back. The blade was abruptly pulled upward exiting her motionless frame at the base of the neck. Her bow fell from her grip as she collapsed into a heap before him. Her soul collectors withered in the air above her while countless glowing azure orbs escaped from her mouth and wounds. Behind her, InuYasha could see an injured child with pallid skin mounting a fire-shrouded steed and shooting off towards the horizon. The hanyo did not pursue; he could not pursue. He simply sank to his knees and began to weep heavily.

"Kikyo…" he stated, sobbing heavily,"Kikyo… Kikyo… KIKYO!!!" The scream InuYasha let out knocked birds from their nests, startled fish in the river, and caused the dead in the village homes to lurch. The echo that followed only increased his sorrow, her name ringing in his ears for what seemed like several minutes.

**End Chapter**

* * *

_Author's Note: I realize that isn't how __Kikyo__ dies in the __manga__, but for this story, I'm really only conc__erned with the time right after __the end of the anime. The __rest is not can__on for this story.__ I'm not sure when the next chapter will be released, hopefully within a week, but I can't make any promises.__ Review, review, review!_


	2. Chapter II: The Pallbearer

_Author's note: I know it's been a good while sing I last posted anything on the internet and far be it from me to expect anyone to wait so long on this story. I'__m a bit busy with school (double-major, triple-minor, all that jazz) but I opted out of a position as a literature critic, so I should have more time to devote to this story. __This is the first draft of this chapter (I felt I should get it out ASAP) so I may be editing this in the future. __Anyway, I appreciate reviews… sorry for the wait… here goes._

II

The Pallbearer

The day had an autocratic quality about it. The sun loomed high in a sky devoid of clouds, seemingly omnipresent, like the regime of a paranoid king, whose agents watch with unswerving eyes as if convinced that some calamitous happening, some coup d'état or peasant rebellion, will occur if they but avert their eyes for but a moment. Under that totalitarian sun, nature's citizens fall in line, for fear of the iron fist. The chaotic cycle of life is miraculously regulated: the wind blows in only one direction; the rain gives an hour's warning before relinquishing its charge; the streams and brooks flow at a consistent pace. On that orderly day, along the orderly path that ran along the orderly wood near the banks of the orderly river, an orderly band of travelers inched along in single file, orderly.

A crimson-shrouded half-demon led the march (so called very generously), mired in a weary trudge, an infinite traipse. His steps were heavy; he was a proverbial prisoner toting a beating ball and chain. His companions followed at a distance, mirroring his vacant expression – though the burden of his steps and baggage were left for him alone to enjoy. Periodically, one would try to break the silence by commenting on the weather or some other mundane theme, an endeavor met with half-hearted "hmms" and "hmphs", making abundantly clear the impossibility of regaining any sense of normalcy. They could do nothing but watch… and worry.

It was never unusual for InuYasha to venture far ahead of the rest under the guise of scouting when something was traumatizing him. What was unusual was his failure to in anyway maintain his pride; he had taken his place twenty yards beyond them without a word for the past three days. They hadn't a clue what was so obviously tearing him apart and any attempts to discover this were met with two very deaf canine ears.

His eyes were hazy, lost in thoughts that only augmented his suffering. This was like a funeral procession, he had thought. I had all the trimmings. The advance of the mourners was painfully slow, but did not dare go any faster. Nature seemed to still, as if playing congregation, quiet out of respect. The sound of leaves rustling resembled stifled sobs; the occasional birdsongs even began sounding like dirges to him. InuYasha was sure he looked like a widower and in most ways felt like one – which was a bit odd considering where he believed his feelings lay. The informed observer might describe his despondency as the expression of the mourning he was cheated out of by his half-century of dormancy, Kikyo's mortal death; but InuYasha could escape long to even begin to approach such thoughts. His mind was wrapped around the great flaw in the funeral analogy, the absence of the body of the dead.

There had been nothing left of Kikyo to bury. He remembered how her body, deprived of borrowed souls, had crumbled quickly in his hands, nothing more than clay, no different than the dirt he felt between his toes. What had been Kikyo was now scattered upon the wind. The cruelness of fate cut him deeply. He knew he would never have the closure of internment. He shuddered and wobbled on his feet. He had the appearance of a soldier returned from war, that one thousand-mile stare looking off into the distance, wanting to find and chase the wind bore Kikyo's ashes. His steps gorged themselves on these thoughts, making each more and more exhausting. He briefly cursed himself for making his weakness visible, but soon relapsed into memory, resuming this most common of activities in the days since her demise. In the sky above, the despot began to discover pity.

That day danced through his thoughts in a macabre waltz, cyclical and steady. He recalled the aftermath. The moments were painted on his eyelids, reemerging when he closed them, making him afraid to blink. He hadn't slept since her death, not that he really needed much to sleep. That hadn't changed, but he no longer saw sleeping as a sign of weakness. They were somehow brave, he thought, those who slumbered without reservation. He was scared to death of sleep, of the dreams that were sure to torment him. If he dreamt, he was certain he would have to relive it once more.

* * *

He was dumbstruck as his eyes merged with Kikyo's crumpled form, her lips still stretched around last syllable of his name. Preoccupied, InuYasha didn't notice as Hakudoshi summoned his fire-clad steed, EnteiInuYasha didn't notice as Hakudoshi climbed upon his mount, a feat recently made difficult for the one-armed youth. In the time it took him to right himself on Entei's back (about forty-five seconds), InuYasha could have got up, strolled leisurely over to the ashen-haired youth, and eviscerated him many times over, and the murderer knew it and made all attempt to hasten his movements. But such was Hakudoshi's condition. He was rapidly losing blood from a gaping hole at the end of his shoulder. He was in no condition to fight. He had been in no condition to continue the fight with Kikyo either. 'If not for the mutt,' Hakudoshi thought, now noticing the beautiful irony of it all, 'Kikyo might have killed me… or at least held me off until I died.'

InuYasha still knelt before Kikyo's corpse. His body began to leak sorrow from the seams, an action that would not completely stop for several years. He would later think how much he resembled Sango in that moment, completely overcome by sadness as she often was. At that time, however, there were no curious thoughts to stem the flow of suffering, no respite from mourning. There was just himself, his suddenly certain love, his pain… and, in moments, his fury.

"Thanks for the help in disposing of her," a snide rasp, a sound not unlike a yelled whisper, jolted his eyes from the miko. The source of the sound sputtered through a slight giggle. It took InuYasha a few moments to process the statement and find its source. Recognizing the infernal steed and its wounded rider, he finally put two and two together and his blood began to boil.

"YOU!!!" the half-demon roared with a twitch and a snort, unable to find the words to express how his rage grew in unison with his awareness of what had happened.

"So, you finally get the picture? cough It's your fault she's dead. The way you opened her guard… he he cough he," Hakudoshi gloated, unable to resist the urge to torment his foe, "… was absolutely beautiful." He hacked up a considerable amount of blood along with the venom he spoke. He savored the moment but a second before the need for self-preservation showed itself. InuYasha was charging fast, claws tearing wildly through the air as if it were his flesh. The child, realizing any further injury would indeed kill him, issued a quick heel tap to his mount as manifest wrath bore down on him. Entei started as lightning and took to the sky, accelerating rapidly as InuYasha cleaved his shadow in two. Turning back, the antagonist mentioned something of gratitude and best wishes before fading out of view completely. InuYasha's frenzy drew him briefly to pursuit but was conquered upon the realization that catching Hakudoshi at this point was impossible.

* * *

Koga was particularly annoyed, which is saying something given his usual demeanor. He had what he would call an "insect problem", twofold. First there was the matter of the Saimyosho swarming about his head, second, of the fly buzzing in his ear. _'Why now? __Dammit__!" _the wolf complained in his head, landing a strong blow on one of the poisonous insects, rending it in twain, gathering himself on the ground, and bounding back into the air. The fly just wouldn't go away. He kicked again as he weaved through the treetops, perplexed by the sudden aggressiveness the corpses he was creating; but he was unable to think very deeply on it all. He was preoccupied with the pest _and_ the saimyosho. There was no time for thought. He caught a few more through the midsection before he couldn't take it anymore.

"Would you just shut up for one minute?!" Koga howled rending several foes in the process, "I'd have killed all these things by now if you'd just give a moment's peace!" With that, the verbal assault ceased and Koga quickly finished the battle. He returned to earth with a thud and prepared for the worst.

"Alright. I waited. Will you listen to me now?" the fly asked with a dash of sarcasm and a heaping helping of irritation. Koga harrumphed, closed his eyes, and squeezed the skin of his forehead between his fingers, illustrating his growing headache. His affirmation, loosely so-described, was given with a huff and reopened eyes.

The wood that hosted the previous combat lay at the base of Mt. Hakurei, the mountain clearly visible above the canopy. It rose from the forest like an ugly face on a beautiful body, a bare rock due to Naraku's machinations within over a year previous. The region had recovered quickly, but the mount itself seemed unchanged. Bits of insect carcasses covered the ground like dust on the floor, trees rose like columns on either side, their branches arched together and met in the middle producing the effect of being in a long corridor. Koga looked around subtly, formulating the most effective means of escape.

"Koga. Listen to me." Koga's pest spoke up again, inching towards him. Her tone was half pleading and half demanding, and to Koga, completely exhausting.

"I told you already. I don't care what your reason is; I'm not letting you take me anywhere until I find Naraku." Koga ranted. She stopped approaching him. She pursed her lips as if to say "but…" He cut her off. "Every time you show up, it's always this or that: marry me, Koga; come back to the mountains with me, Koga; help me find the elder, Koga. Whatever it is, this time, I'm not doing it."

"Just listen to me alright," Ayame begged less forcefully than before, "the elder is dead and we need y- …"

"Not until I get Naraku," Koga refused flatly, but the indignant quality that usually permeated his speech was noticeably absent.

"But…" Koga again didn't let her finish and in perhaps the strangest turn of events I have felt compelled to describe, Koga, leader of the eastern wolf-demons, began to make sense.

"Look," Koga said with a sigh, "Naraku knows our territory now. If the remaining tribes went back there all at once, Kagra, or someone worse would show up and we'd lose even more. I know you think it's important to unify what power we have left, but it's just not possible right now." Koga's bravado, after this noticeable deviation towards reason, returned as quickly as it had vanished. "Just let me find Naraku and I'll bring his head to the mountains with me." Before she could respond, Koga saluted, pushed off the ground sharply and disappeared in a cloud of dust and debris.

* * *

Several melancholic days and equally melancholic nights passed without overwhelming improvement in Inuyasha's condition. Miroku had been able to convince him to pass a reluctant explanation of Kikyo's demise through his teeth resulting first in a feeling of being smothered and then one of isolation for the hanyo. A semblance of what was normal returned. Some conversations resumed, travelling seemed to have purpose again, but the group dynamic was awkward. InuYasha talked far less than per usual, refused to make eye contact with Kagome, and was generally sluggish, in a manner that made it completely obvious what was on his mind. When this reached concerning levels, the other would select one or two from among them to be an envoy, if you will, to InuYasha, provoking him to some other emotion. This happened a total of three times.

First, Shippo approached stealthily, drawing close behind, and with a swift motion popped airborne. He created a perch on InuYasha's head and began playing with his ears roughly. The resulting scene produced first the moment appropriate for laughter in days. With Shippo's initial tug, InuYasha let out an abnormally pained cry and shook his head in all directions so that Shippo's body was hurled about like a ragdoll as he clung desperately to the ears. This lasted for a bit longer than it had too – InuYasha had realized what was going on because of Shippo's terrified wails and decided to endure the irritation on his ears long enough to launch the kitsune into something very hard. As Shippo opened his eyes to find himself upside-down against the trunk of a tree with a throbbing head and still screaming at the top of his lungs, InuYasha's mind had managed to find new thoughts to temporarily dwell upon.

Next, Miroku concocted a plan with a somewhat irked Sango to try to draw out InuYasha's wit (simple though it be) and gratify himself at the same time. The next time that the group found a village to host them for a night, Miroku approached the duties of a professional lecher with renewed enthusiasm. A svelte young village girl clung to each of his shoulders and another was draped over his back so that he wore her as a cape. He was swaying from side to side singing a particularly rowdy song about a samurai, a barroom gambler, and a prostitute. A significant amount of sake occupied the tray at his feet.

Miroku and his living garments occupied one corner of a sufficiently cramped room. Through the rice-paper screen behind his head, several lamps were visible as well as the silhouettes of twenty-some village men, perturbed by the way the monk was permitted to carry on with their daughters, sisters, and unrequited loves. Opposite Miroku, kneeling on a mat behind an untouched bowl of rice and between Kagome and InuYasha, Sango fumed, regretting giving Miroku such liberty but smirking on the inside, knowing what was to come.

Miroku put his plan into action after the culmination of his song, in which the samurai kills the prostitute and runs off with the gambler. He beckoned Sango to join the festivities, citing his empty lap.

"It seems like you've already had your pick of this village. What do you need me for?" Sango flung her words at him a bit more viciously than Miroku had prescribed.

"Come on," Miroku pleaded, "you know that I always need you." He beckoned her once more. InuYasha took no notice.

"Oh really?" Sango reluctantly stuck to the script, desiring to berate her betrothed.

"Come on, Sango. You know I mean it." This was accompanied by a quick grope to the decoration on his left shoulder.

She glared, stood up, set her hands on her hips. This was the cue. Miroku appealed to InuYasha for defense. InuYasha's ears perked at mention of his name. Before he could render any sort of response, Sango cajoled him to just look at the situation. Miroku shed his retinue and approached the half-demon still asking for some help, while Sango was upon him from the other side, demanding the opposite. Before long they backed him into a corner of the room wide-eyed and bewildered. They continued involving him in their bickering, producing a sound like a two chickens fighting over the last scrap of feed. At this time, several of the older village men opened the paper screen and recovered their daughters. The squabble finally produced its desired result when InuYasha, forced to his feet in the corner by the couple's continuous close, pushed them aside and cocked his neck back, eyes trying to look back into his head, exhaled deeply, and remarked, "You both are idiots."

The third attempt came several days later and the task fell to Kagome to liven him up. The group was resting at a quaint rural teahouse a bit after midday. InuYasha sat on the porch, dangling his legs over the edge, staring at the horizon, as if trying to see just a bit beyond it. He was alone with his thoughts, a state that inevitably led to mourning. It was two weeks after her death. His thoughts were beginning to grow clearer, he was now able to, with effort, work his mind past the mere fact that Kikyo no longer walked the earth, to more abstract ideas, such as why she died. His mind turned to the instant of her death. She was slashed when she turned to acknowledge he was there. Hakudoshi was able to kill her because she was distracted. Hakudoshi… A jolt ran down his spine. He had let him get away. InuYasha would have noted his extreme urge to find that child and separate him from his head, but Kagome sat down beside him, offering herbal tea, a rice cake, and conversation.

"InuYasha," she finished his name with upward inflection, "why are you out here by yourself?"

"Hmm?" he grunted without turning to acknowledge her, taking a bite of the rice cake. He had refused the tea.

"I mean, why don't you come inside with the rest of us? It's really nice on the inside."

"I'll pass."

"Why?" With this she crawled into him slightly, leaning around so she could read his expressions better. He turned his head away as she leaned, always fixing his gaze directly on the air just in front of her nose. She stretched. He turned. She stretched further. He turned further. She fell off the porch and landed with her face nestled in the dirt of the path below. She stood up quickly, annoyed.

"What did you do that for?"

"Do what?" He still would not look at her.

"I just want you to look at me."

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb. I just want you to look at me when you talk to me. Is that too much to ask?" She was particularly annoyed now.

"Yes."

"What?"

"You asked me a question. I answered it." He appeared to be examining the crumbs of his rice cake arrayed atop his left knee.

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

"Look at me, stupid!" She was scowling now.

"Why?"

"Why not? Do you hate me?"

"Not yet."

"Then why?"

"I don't know." He now appeared to be admiring several blades of grass.

"Yes you do!"

"No."

"Stupid! Tell me!"

"No."

"SIT!" With this InuYasha found his face in his lap, now covered in splinters.

"What the hell!?"

"Tell me!"

"No."

"Sit!"

"Dammit!" This continued for several minutes, drawing the others, including a particularly confused elderly tea lady, complete with cane, hump, and limp, until InuYasha finally relented.

"FINE! I can't look at you without seeing Kikyo! Is that a good enough answer?"

Kagome was unsure how to respond. She was conflicted between shock, anger, and pity. So, instead of any verbal remark, she took his face in her hands and forced him to look her in the eye. When their eyes met, his pupils nearly disappeared. His claims were verified when he found himself back on the outskirts of that riverside village, watching that imp of a child disembowel his first love. His sorrow made him desperate. His rage made him reckless. Kagome was now someone he couldn't handle. InuYasha burst out of her grip, flinging her upon her back. He stood over her for a second and then in an instant he was gone, tearing through the valley below.

_Author's note: This may be a bit pompous, but I felt the need to explain a few things that__ I feel__ may be confusing. First, the title; I know it's not mentioned anywhere in the chapter but it seemed to fit, a pallbearer is one who assists in carrying the casket during a Christian funeral, which __InuYasha__ must do in a way. To anyone familiar with the term, I'm sure that was obvious, if not that's my fault for not developing the motif adequately. Second is the term "traipse". This is a rather uncommon term, certainly outside of the everyday lexicon, but I've fallen in love with it. Its exact definition immediately precedes it in the sentence, "a weary trudge"._

_Anyway, thanks for reading. Please review. __I felt some parts of this chapter were a bit underdeveloped__ i.e. __InuYasha's__ grief seems a bit excessive__ (he seems too melodramatic too me)__ because it would take too long to fully itemize it __, but I wanted to keep it concise enough to read__, what are your opinions on this?__I'm wearing out my welcome with this, I know._


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